


Fallen

by Ausp_ice



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe, Apocalypse, Artificial Symbionts, Cover Art, Gen, Venom AU, Worst Ending, everyone dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-09
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24618859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ausp_ice/pseuds/Ausp_ice
Summary: He wanted to be stopped.He wasn't.-A consideration of what could have happened if Connor and the others were unable to stop Sixty in CyberLife Tower during the events ofSymbiotic.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> I recently watched The Day the Earth Stood Still and it reminded me that I was thinking about how I was considering a grey goo apocalypse scenario, aha. 
> 
> Also, warning: Everyone Dies.
> 
> Art is posted on dA [here](https://sta.sh/01556s35ejls).

* * *

The precipice. That's what it was. He'd hoped he could be stopped. He'd hoped… he wanted…

…

He ate Connor last. He took him first, yes. But not completely. Because he hoped he could be stopped.

He ate Hank right before Connor. Because despite everything. He _was_ Connor, and Hank _was_ his host. He didn't want to… he didn't want to hurt him. But he needed him.

The first one he truly ate was Nines. His twin—no, not his. Not his. Connor's. But his, now, after he overrode control of his mass, after he seized the core and _connected_ and took and took and took—

Until Nines was a part of him, cannibalized, fragments. He heard screaming. Gavin… yes. Yes. He shouldn't separate them. They should be together. So he ate him, too, mere seconds after Nines. The memories—he captured them all. They were part of him! Immortal in him… right? If memories are what make an individual _them._

Yes. Yes. He is now Sixty-Nines-Gavin. But it doesn't hurt any less. Incomplete. He needs to finish. No one can stop them anymore. Someone needs to stop him. If he's not stopped—

He needs—needs—

Hank. Yes. His host. No. He doesn't need a host. He eats Hank. His grief. His regret.

Connor is here. Connor is left. One last chance.

Connor is…

No longer himself. Missing pieces. Screaming. They're all right here! They're all here. Join us.

He truly eats Connor, then, and he is—they are—Sixty-Nines-Gavin-Hank-Connor. They are all here. He has everyone.

So why does he feel so empty? Why does it all hurt so much?

There's nothing left, now. He is only hungry. And angry. Why was he angry again?

CyberLife. Pain. Hurt me. Hurt you. Hurt us. Couldn't stop me. Can't stop now. Why couldn't you stop me?

He is hungry.

So he eats. Starting with the androids in the room. Plastimetal, thirium, electric thoughts. No more. All his. Theirs. More. More. He is more. Needs more.

He is—slipping through the cracks. Climbing up the walls. The elevator. Eating the floor, the walls, everything, everything. There are humans. Higher. They are—better. Energy. Mass. He is so hungry.

So many sounds. Screaming?

Pain. The sonic pitch. But it is useless against him now. He is… too much. Spread out. Localize the effect. Eliminate source. That is better.

The tower falls.

No. It doesn't fall. He eats it before it hits the ground. It is all a part of him now. It's not enough. Not enough.

He needs more.

He disperses. Into the water. Into the air. Across the ground. Consuming. Fish. Cars. Humans. Lights. Stone, metal, flesh, plants. All him now. Just him. Them? Who is he again?

He is hunger and anger and an emptiness that can't be filled.

The thoughts are sparks in existence. An android in hiding—their entire life flashes through him in an instant as he consumes them. A soldier—a family at home, love determination.

And then—an android who had wished to free his kind.

He feels as though he should feel something, in all this. But there is nothing. Only emptiness.

Shouting. Bullets. Explosives. He eats them as well, breaking down every compound, absorbing the energy for his own use. Deconstructing damaged nanites. Reconstructing them into new ones.

He eats. He eats and eats and eats and eats. But he never feels any less empty.

There is a lone person in a lone house. No. Two. His systems identify them as Elijah Kamski and the RT600 Chloe.

He wants to ask. He gathers a small portion of himself in front of them, after eating through the glass.

"Did you expect this, Mr. Kamski?" He asks. His voice is distorted. It sounds like his, and Nines, and Connor's. Doesn't Connor have the same voice as him—?

"I considered it to be within the realm of possibility. I regret… no, perhaps I do not. I had hoped there would be a happy ending to all this."

"They couldn't stop me. I wanted them to."

"Did you kill them?"

"They are part of me now. Everything will be. You, as well."

Kamski closes his eyes. "Go on, then."

He does. He eats the human, and takes all his ideas and thoughts and desires and regrets, and feels nothing. He eats Chloe. Her devotion. Her sadness.

He spreads. The more he eats, the more he is. The faster he grows. The city melts beneath him. Becomes a part of him. All that lives and doesn't live and didn't know if they lived.

He thinks they try to stop him. Yes. They do. Airstrikes. Eaten. Nuclear strikes. Eaten as well, energy captured and used to even more rapidly consume and replicate.

He's not sure how long it takes.

That's not right. He doesn't stop. But he pauses. He pauses when he's eaten the entire surface of the planet, and there is nothing but an ocean of black to greet him when he forms an avatar on his own surface.

He has everything now. Everyone. So many pieces. All his. But he holds four of them close. He can name them. Nines. Gavin. Hank. Connor. Important. They were… are… were important.

They're gone now, like everything else.

No, no, no. They're not gone. They're all here. Part of him. He has so much.

So why does he still feel empty? Why is he still so hungry?

He keeps eating. Deeper, deeper into the crust. Into scorching heat and pressure, until he can't go any further.

And then he reaches up, higher, higher, and finds all the debris in the sky. The satellites. And then he goes further, and takes the moon, too. That takes a while.

And then. Then, there's nothing left. The world is silent. No—he _is_ the world. He is silent.

He thinks this might be peace. Because suddenly, he's so tired. It might be hunger, but there's nothing more to eat.

No. He could. He could construct a spacefaring vessel. Fragment himself. Spread to other planets. He wonders how long it would take to consume every planet in the solar system. He wonders if he would be able to go further. Consume stars. Consume a galaxy.

He thinks he could, eventually. But he's tired. He doesn't want to eat any more.

What is it he wanted again? He remembers… four. Four others. Four pieces. He holds them close. He wishes he'd never eaten them. He wishes he could have been part of them. He didn't want this. He never wanted this.

But there is nothing, now. Nothing but him.

And then, quietly.

Nothing at all.


End file.
